


Bat Country

by ishafel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-08
Updated: 2011-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-15 12:43:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishafel/pseuds/ishafel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nothing about this is right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bat Country

She doesn't know which one was the father. At the time it didn't matter, because John wasn't going to be any kind of father at all and Billy loved Jo from the first time he saw her. Later it didn't matter because Billy was dead, and John was all that was left. When Jo was small, she'd thought it must be Billy, because Jo was as fair as he was, as easy-going. But the older Jo got, the more like John she got: hard-headed, loyal to a fault, cleverer than she had any right to be. And then she met John's boys--big, dark Sam, and golden Dean, and she started to wonder. And then she caught Dean with her daughter and it was much too late for easy explanations, discreet DNA tests, platitudes. So she warned Jo off the only way she could, and didn't count the cost.

No one knows the truth, but she imagines if they did, what they'd think: that it was her, between Billy and John. That this was somehow her idea, that she instigated this, made it possible, insisted it be possible. But Billy was always the one in the middle. In the beginning she hunted with Billy as often as she fucked him, and it never occurred to her they needed anyone else. Billy was the one who chose John, and Billy was the one who brought him in. She went along with it to keep her husband.

She knew it was a bad idea, the very first time, when Billy fucked her and John fucked him. She said so, a thousand times, and they didn't listen. And somewhere around the time she felt Billy come inside her, and she came, too, and then looked down to see John's big worn hand on her breast--somewhere around the time she realized Billy was still hard inside her, and John was hard in him--it stopped mattering so much.

After that there were other times, other configurations. Sometimes it was John in her, Billy in John, sometimes it was just Billy and John. Once or twice it was just John and Ellen, and once he called her Mary. It never stopped being a bad idea, and it was the Eighties and she was a kid and never as careful as she meant to be.

She was with each of them alone more often than she was ever with both of them together, but now that they're both dead this is how she remembers them, is together. Billy and John in the front seat of the Impala, in the cab of Billy's truck, big men with broad shoulders and deep voices, Billy loud and John quiet. Billy shaving while John showered. John's mouth on hers while Billy rocked gently against her. Billy kissing her with the surety of a man who knew he owned her, and John shyly telling her she was beautiful.

It's not that she doesn't care which one of them was Jo's father--it's that she wants them both to have been, because she's all Ellen has left of either of them.


End file.
